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I wander toward the back of the store—where the leather items reside.
Not only do they have garments, they have toys as well. Fur-lined handcuffs, floggers. None of the instruments look like they could do any real damage. They seem to be for show. Maybe for costuming.
I look over my shoulder, fearful that Mary has followed me here and will try to sell me some of these things. The warmth of my blush creeps up to my cheeks again at the mere thought of talking about these things.
And then…
Something I’m not expecting.
The warmth of a blush…down there.
Ilikethe idea of this stuff.
Just like I like the idea of the club.
Was it Jackson? Or was it the club? The leather? The fucking?
A black-and-blue lace corset catches my eye. Or is it a bustier? I don’t really know the difference. I’ve never worn a corset. I always figured they’d be very uncomfortable. I think of the Victorian women who were forced to wear them to make their waists look smaller, their boobs look bigger.
How restrictive…and how misogynistic.
So why am I thinking about putting this on my body?
I have no idea what size I would take.
But…Mary to the rescue.
“Do you know your size?” she asks as she thumbs through the corsets.
“I’m afraid I don’t. I guess I’m a novice when it comes to these things.” I let out a nervous laugh. I’m a novice at practically everything this store represents.
“You’re far from the first one. Are you looking for a corset that cinches the waist only or one that also covers the bust?”
“Uh…definitely want to cover the bust. I guess.”
“Perfect. Corsets are based on your actual measurements.” She whips out a tape measure. “Here, let me show you. First we need to measure right under your bust.”
Mary wraps the tape measure in a circle right under where my boobs fall and writes down some numbers. “Then your natural waist.” She moves the tape measure, writes again. “Then your upper hip, and then we need to measure the length of your torso. You have a great hourglass figure.”
Yep, the warmth of that blush again.
“This is your first corset, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go four inches smaller than your natural waist. That should give you some comfort. Once you get used to wearing a corset, you can go a little smaller.” Mary searches through the rack and grabs a corset. “I’ll help you. But this corset has its closures and laces in the front, so you will eventually be able to put it on yourself.”
“Eventually?”
“Originally, back in the day, all corsets had their laces in the back, so the lady needed her maid to help her get into it every day.”
I don’t reply.
“Of course today, very few ladies actually have maids to do this.” She giggles and rolls her eyes.
A maid. Right. In my tiny rent-controlled apartment.
Maybe I could dash past Mary and reach the exit quickly.
